Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

The next day, at the Xingcheng Mango Studio.

The final of "The Voice of Heaven".

People were coming and going in the backstage corridor, and the static from walkie-talkies rose and fell.

Jiang Fan leaned back on the sofa in the lounge, while the large screen displayed the pre-live broadcast preview.

The number of online reservations has exceeded 30 million.

Of the top ten trending topics on Weibo, three are related to tonight's final.

#ShenNianFinalSong# #ChenHaovsShenNian# #VoiceofHeaven ChampionPrediction#

The fans on both sides were fiercely arguing in the comments section.

Zhou Yutong was squatting on the ground scrolling through her phone. Every time a message popped up, she felt like she was being electrocuted.

"Brother Fan, look at this—'Chen Hao hired a national team vocal coach, what can Shen Nian use to compete?'"

She swiped the screen.

"People are still placing bets. Shen Nian's odds are 1.9, Chen Hao's are 2.1—"

"Stop looking at it." Jiang Fan placed his phone face down on the coffee table.

The locker room door opened.

Shen Nian walked out.

She wore a white dress with a long, floor-length skirt, and her hair was styled in a loose, low bun with two wisps of hair framing her face.

The makeup was very light, with a touch of silver glitter at the corner of the eye and a nude-pink lip color.

She was completely clean and tidy, a stark contrast to the blood-red wedding dress she wore in the previous episode.

Jiang Fan looked up at her.

"nice."

Shen Nian raised her hand to tidy up the stray hairs by her ear, but didn't reply, though she couldn't suppress the smile on her lips.

Zhou Yutong jumped up from the ground and circled around Shen Nian.

"Sister Nian! You look absolutely ethereal today!"

"Alright, alright, stop spinning, you're making me dizzy." Shen Nian pressed down on her shoulder.

-

8:00 PM.

The live stream started on time.

Teacher He stood in the center of the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, his voice drowning out the restlessness of the entire audience.

"Welcome, dear viewers, to the grand finale of 'The Voice of Heaven'!"

Thunderous applause and screams erupted in waves.

The number of online viewers jumped from 34 million at the start of the broadcast to over 40 million within five minutes.

"After four rounds of ranking competitions and fierce competition in the semi-finals, the two singers who finally stand on this stage are—"

The large screen lights up.

On the left, Chen Hao. On the right, Shen Nian.

The two photos are side by side: one is a sharp-looking man in a suit, and the other is a cool and aloof woman dressed in white.

"They will compete for the championship title of this season's 'The Voice of China' tonight!"

The applause from Teacher He and others had only just begun to fade.

"The rules for the final are simple—each of the two singers will perform one song, and a panel of one thousand audience members will vote live. The singer with the highest number of votes will be the champion of this season. There is no theme, and the singers can choose their own songs."

He raised the microphone. "Who goes first? This time, it'll be decided by flipping a coin."

A staff member came up carrying a tray with a gold coin on it.

"Front side - Chen Hao sings first. Back side - Shen Nian sings first."

The coin was tossed into the air.

A thousand pairs of eyes in the audience followed that bright spot as it rose and then fell back down.

*Smack.* It landed on Teacher He's hand.

He turned his palm over.

"Frontline! Teacher Chen Hao, sing first!"

Backstage, Zhou Yutong patted her chest: "Sing well later, sing well later."

Jiang Fan didn't respond.

-

On the big screen, Chen Hao was already standing in the center of the stage.

He wore a dark blue suit and his hair was styled meticulously.

Standing at 1.9 meters tall, his confident aura was palpable even through the screen.

As soon as the intro started, Jiang Fan knew this kid was going to go all out tonight.

With a base of brass instruments and a string section, the entire arrangement is designed to be explosive.

Chen Hao spoke up.

My voice sounds like it's been sharpened tonight.

The penetration in the high register is significantly stronger than in previous episodes. The national team's vocal coach definitely paid off.

After the verse was sung, the audience could no longer sit still.

When the chorus came, he released all the power he had been holding back.

When that high note hit—a girl in the front row covered her mouth with both hands, and tears streamed down her face.

The last paragraph.

Chen Hao took two steps back, tilted his head back, the veins on his neck bulging, and his voice crashed against the dome of the stadium.

The lingering sound lingered in the space for several seconds before slowly dissipating.

The entire audience went wild; several rows of people jumped up from their seats at the same time, and the screams nearly lifted the roof off.

On the judges' panel, Jay Chou led the way by standing up and applauding.

Tang Yingxue sat there, her hands folded on her lap, and nodded.

The live stream chat was flooded with white messages.

Is that even human voice?! It's nuclear-level!

Chen Hao had an extraordinary performance tonight; his voice was on fire!

[Shen Nian is finished, how do we fight this...]

To be honest, this performance was top-notch even by Chinese music standards. Who can match it now?

Backstage, Zhou Yutong stared at the large screen, her face drained of color.

"Brother Fan... his skill level..."

"Very strong."

Jiang Fan stared at the screen showing Chen Hao taking his final bow, tapping his fingers twice on the armrest of the sofa.

This kid is really risking his life.

The final battle, with no way out.

Teacher He went on stage to take over the show. He waited for five or six seconds, allowing the emotions of the audience to gradually subside.

"Absolutely amazing! Chen Hao's performance tonight—I can only say that this is the most explosive performance I have ever heard on the Voice of China stage."

He glanced at the audience who were still standing.

"Please sit down, everyone. Because next—there's one more singer."

The noise in the venue gradually subsided.

"Next, please welcome our second singer in the finals—"

Shen Nian sat on a chair in the dressing room.

She kept her eyes closed from the moment Chen Hao stepped onto the stage until she finished singing.

She mentally went through "Left Finger Pointing to the Moon" from beginning to end. Every breath, every transition between true and falsetto voice, every pronunciation of each word—she went through it all in her mind.

There was a knock on the door to the dressing room.

"Teacher Shen Nian, please prepare to go on stage."

Shen Nian opened her eyes and stood up.

She exchanged a glance with Jiang Fan.

Jiang Fan leaned back on the sofa and nodded at her.

Zhou Yutong clenched her fists and jumped up: "Go, Nian-jie! You're the best!"

Shen Nian smiled at her, then turned and walked towards the door.

The white skirt swayed gently under the corridor lights, and footsteps pattered on the ground, unhurried and steady.

She walked to the edge of the curtain, lifted her skirt with her left hand, and took a step out.

Applause and screams erupted simultaneously.

She steadied herself and stepped onto the center of the stage.

The white dress shimmered softly under the light, and the long hem trailed on the ground with a slight rustling sound.

The venue quieted down.

Five hundred people stared at her.

A beam of moon-white light descended from the dome and shone on Shen Nian.

White dress, white light.

She stood in the light, her eyes downcast, holding the microphone in her right hand.

It was as clean as the moon.

A simple intro begins.

Shen Nian held the microphone to her mouth.

"Holding the earth in my left hand, and the sky in my right—"

"The palm lines cracked, and lightning flashed from all directions—"

The moment the first word came out.

The two technicians behind the mixing console looked up at the same time.

Tang Yingxue, who was holding a water glass, stopped in her tracks.

On the arm of a middle-aged man in the front row of the audience, the hairs stood on end.

That voice—clear and bright.

Without any embellishment, the sound passed through the microphone and filled every corner of the venue.